Slender Terror
by HeroInTraining
Summary: Nausea grew; bile rose to my mouth. Hot, salty tears leaked from my eyes and slowly slid down my face. Feeling more frightened by the second, I tried to run, but mid-step a snow white hand grabbed my shoulder. I put forth the energy to attack, prove that I would not go down without a fight. Finally I passed out, my last sight being the face of the Slender Man.


**Slender Terror**

We stumbled through a forest, we being my best friend Caitlin and I. The sun sent brilliant shafts of purple and gold light through the thick layer of trees, occasionally illuminating our faces. I stayed in the front, insisting I knew where we were going. Caitlin protested, insisting we were lost. Our argument carried over the sounds of nature. Slowly the sun went down. It appeared to want to stay risen to give us more daylight, but knew doing so would upset the balance. All natural light disappeared, forcing us to use our flashlights. Finally we stepped into a small clearing. I leaned against a tree, exhausted.

"Now will you admit we're lost?" Caitlin asked, collapsing on a rock.

"Maybe," I replied defiantly. I set down my backpack and pulled out a pack of matches and a sleeping bag. "Obviously we're not going anywhere tonight, so help me prep."

Ever so slowly, Caitlin let her bag slide off her shoulders and watched it drop to the ground. She left to collect firewood, returning a few moments later with an armful of sticks. I arranged them in a teepee in a small circle of rocks. Then I lit a match and tossed it onto the pile, successfully igniting the brush. Now we had a source of heat. Next I ventured into the nearby trees, collecting armful after armful of brush to burn. Soon there was enough to last us through the night. Meanwhile Caitlin spread our sleeping bags and prepared a meal of granola bars and water. Though we intended to hike around the expansive Canadian forests and camp, we did not expect to stray so far from civilization. Once again my poor navigation skills had gotten us into trouble.

Caitlin, tired of my unusual stony silence, asked, "Something feels off. Didn't a sign at the parking lot say there's been a ton of supernatural sightings here?"

Staying silent for so long was quite a feat, considering the word quiet is not in my vocabulary. "Yeah," I finally mumbled. The reason for my silence: I did notice the sign, and knew what supernatural being it referenced. It warned against hiking alone; advised spending the night in motels placed periodically along the highway. But I wandered off the path, telling Caitlin we would not stray far. That backfired. Several wrong turns later, Caitlin declared us lost. Me, too stubborn to admit it, trusted only my instincts. Little did I know my faulty instincts would save our lives.

"We're doomed," she comments, folding her jacket to act as a pillow and settling into her sleeping bag.

I added some thick logs and stoked the fire one last time before falling asleep in my own bag. I slept soundly until I had the dream. Nightmare, really. I woke up with my fist in my mouth and a terrible sense of dread. The moon shone brightly overhead, a white orb in a sea of black. At first I thought it was the dream, but then a horrible feeling washed over me. The predecessor of the entity that haunted the forest. Turning my head slightly, I saw out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a white face in the darkness. A black shape with impossibly long arms loomed in the distance. I scrambled to my feet and screamed, "Caitlin, wake up!" Then I sprinted faster than normal for a person of my stature, not even bothering to pull on my hiking boots. The forest blurred. Leaves and twigs whipped against my face. Sounds of crickets faded as the sound of the wind eliminated all other noises. Caitlin stirred, and when she opened her eyes, let out a shriek of terror. "Caitlin!" I repeated, glancing back to see her run in the opposite direction.

"Nicole! Help me!" Her cries subsided to low whimpers.

Ignoring the blood pouring from my battered feet, I peeked out from behind a sapling. The dark figure stalked Caitlin. A white blob, really the creature's head, slowly caught up, but by no means did it run. It moved with the shadows, becoming one with the blackness. As Caitlin's pleas morphed into terrified sobs, I desperately thought back to everything I had ever read or seen dealing with the entity. Nothing I remembered would work; nothing but a video a friend showed to us in jest. The video was supposed to lesson your fear. I mentally sorted the suggestions into what would and would not work. Slimming it down, I finally settled on singing the happiest song you know. Or, in this case, the most popular. I began humming a popular Korean tune, "Gangnam Style," by a man known as PSY. It took my mind off the problem at hand, even if only for a few seconds, and let me shout to Caitlin. "Remember the video!"

"Like that's gonna work!"

"Just try!" But then her voice cut out. She did not make it. Breathing heavily, I ducked from tree to tree, self-preservation overpowering the need to check on my best friend. Completely out of character, considering I remain loyal to a fault, but fear twists your mind. Warping it, taking over, controlling everything said and done. My survival was more important than protecting us both. Pausing to catch my breath, I groped for my walkie-talkie, but then recalled I removed it from my pocket before falling asleep. My two options were to keep running and hope I reached the highway, or attempt to grab Caitlin's cell phone and call the police. There had to be reception. I chose option two. I spun around and promptly froze. A blood curling shriek escaped my lips. The figure, clothed in a black tuxedo, stood barely an arm's length away. The sickness washed over me, and the forest seemed to mock me, limbs reaching out to contain anything that moved. Nausea grew; bile rose to my mouth. Hot, salty tears leaked from my eyes and slowly slid down my face. Feeling more frightened by the second, I tried to run, but mid-step a snow white hand grabbed my shoulder. I put forth the energy to attack, prove that I would not go down without a fight. None of my resilience could prevent me from sensing faint. Finally I could take the stress no more. I succumbed, my last sight being the face of the Slender Man.

o8o

Sunlight pouring through the thick canopy of leaves brought me back to consciousness. At first all I recollected was our original purpose. Confused, I stumbled back to our campsite. Dewdrops coated everything. Our backpacks were damp; a rabbit slept in my sleeping bag. The fire was nothing more than ash and some charred wood. Caitlin was nowhere to be seen. The only recent memory that remained clear was a strong sense of paranoia concerning the forest. I had no idea why, just that it was there. Deciding to search the nearby area for my friend, knowing she could not have strayed far, I grabbed a walkie-talkie and began. Every so often I would page her, hoping to hear hers in the distance, but to no avail. After many moments of scrutinizing the surrounding woods, just before I was about to give up, I tripped over something hard, but not as hard as a rock. My shoes still rested next to the makeshift fire pit. I glanced down; the object was Caitlin's boot. She laid in a position signifying she passed out while trying to clamber away. About to drag her to the clearing, I spotted the source of my paranoia. Still weak, I collapsed.

We awoke within seconds of each other. But we were no longer the naïve, innocent teenagers we once were. The sightings changed us. Our very being, our mentality, was not our own. We had adopted personas not unlike those in classic horror films or historic killing sprees. Now, the world had something to fear.

Over time our old selves became almost non-existent. Even going so far as to smuggle weapons, we partook in crimes and babbled gibberish to whomever would listen. The Slender Man occasionally showed himself to us. With each sighting our crimes escalated, quickly gaining the complexity and splendor as those in the comics we both loved. I do not know how Caitlin felt, but as my sanity dropped, I began to hallucinate my favorite things from an old life appearing randomly. Shows such as the Big Bang Theory, Smallville, or Danny Phantom; movies like Avatar, the Avengers, and the Bourne Legacy; video games resembling Batman: Arkham City, Sims 3, and Marvel Ultimate Alliance 2; even books like Greg Cox's Final Crisis, Robert Ludlum's Jason Bourne, and Anne Mazer and Ellen Potter's Spilling Ink. Projections would pop up, play through, then disappear as suddenly as they came. Was I insane? My answer would be, "Heck yeah!"

Time passed. To keep the images of the forest terror out of our minds, the source of our madness, we spent all our time formulating new ways to terrorize the world. One of those plans brought us back to the woods that housed the Slender Man, near the attack. The plan was too unearthly to fathom by anybody. Our plan fell into place. I congratulated Caitlin, but before everything could begin, a dark figure stepped out of the shadows. Caitlin hushed me and pointed.

"This can't go on," the police officer growled.

"What can't go on, Officer? We're just causing some mayhem." I laughed, not because of the situation, but because how everything fell into place.

"The crime spree." With that, more cops came into sight, quickly closing in a tight circle.

My first instinct was to run. Cowardly, no. In that particular fight-or-flight circumstance, I subconsciously chose flight. Caitlin, ever faithful, followed, not nearly as fast. The police easily caught up. Through my maniacal laughter I heard the word "asylum," a tell-tale sigh we had truly lost all sanity. We were no match for the police, and they dragged us to their cars. Then we drove off into the sunset, closely resembling the one of the night of our first encounter with the Slender Man. His face showed a final time, symbolizing our fate. Our torment was finally over.


End file.
